Some Nights A Gambler Always Wins
by Bamfbugboy
Summary: A series centering around Reev Aurell, my smuggler, and Tau'seret Rozenhart Aurell, my bounty hunter, as they venture across the galaxy, get into trouble, lose each other, and find their ways back home. Makes reference to events in either story, so some spoilers. Rated M for violence, cursing, and sexual themes.
1. Things Fall Apart

**Author's Note**: _Headcanon background for my male Smuggler Reev Aurell and his relationship with my female Bounty Hunter Tau'seret Rozenhart Aurell. Slightly NSFW for language. This will make reference to some events in both class' stories. _

* * *

**Some Nights A Gambler Always Wins  
**

Chapter One

Reev Aurell remembers his not-a-wife-not-a-lover-not-an-Imperial-damnit business partner like she was just with him yesterday, flying around the galaxy and causing trouble with him. He remembers her loud voice that never lost its touch of rough charm, even when she was tending to his broken arm and trying to be gentle (he had stupidly gotten himself into a nasty bar fight on Nar Shaddaa).

He remembers her preferring the title: "Hired-Gun-And-Occasionally-Hired-Medic" over "Bounty-Hunter-And-Wanted Criminal." He remembers that wide smirk of hers whenever she teased him about his proper title: "Scoundrel" for a euphemism and "Asshole-From-the-Depths-of-Hell-Frozen-Over-Who's-Banging-Your-Wife-And-Stealing-Her-Credits—And-Her-Favorite-Desserts." He remembers pinning her to the wall of _their_ ship, their dirty, always purring, Not-A-Piece-Of-Junk-Thank-You-Very-Much ship that made the both of them proud to be alive and free, oh-so-free, and telling her, "You're the only woman for me."

Of course, he remembers her laughing and feeling up his almost-but-not-quite-there muscles with her glove durasteel hands. "A Scoundrel is the only man for me."

Of course, he remembers that they were only teasing each other then.

He remembers the stealing and the conning and the lying and the occasional moment of charity, such as the time they felt bad for a brown haired teenager begging to get off of Nar Shaddaa after losing his two sisters to a Sith Lord. He remembers his hired gun suggesting that they keep the kid around or something; she felt bad for the kid. Reev wanted none of that. So they took the kid to Coruscant and they didn't so much as look back. They'd done their little bit of charity for the galaxy. But both of them knew that charity isn't profitable nor is it a proper, accepted currency in the Outer Rim and certainly not in Hutt or Imperial Space.

He remembers them always pretending to be husband and wife, newlyweds exploring the big, wide galaxy. Their goals were purely financial, he remembers, until that all changed when she approached him one night after recalibrating her two blasters, her jet-pack, and her flamethrower. It really was all spontaneous, none of that planned, linear romance. They never crashed together like some goddamn starship collision. It wasn't an explosion. He remembers one simple question that did catch him momentarily off-guard: "Hey, want to fuck?" to which he looked up from the open part of the ship he himself had been tinkering with, sat up, and saw her in all of her pure beauty. All naked curves, short blonde hair, scars and burns and danger and fire. It wasn't a big deal between them.

He remembers them both enjoying the sex but it never became the focus of their relationship. It didn't dramatically change things like it does for some people. It wasn't routine but it wasn't unusual for either of them to approach the other and ask the question and get a response.

He remembers their relationship changing so subtly that he wonders if it ever really changed at all. Change was never dramatic. Eventually the smuggler and the bounty hunter simply decided that while "husband and wife" or "lovers" didn't fit them, they happily agreed upon the title, "No-Longer-Platonic-But-Not-Going-Steady-Unofficial-Couple-That-Occasionally-Has-Sex-But-It-Isn't-Anything-Serious-Oh-Did-We-Mention-That-We-Sort-Of-Kind-Of-Love-Each-Other?" to be somewhat appropriate.

He remembers his Tau'seret wanting to be Mandalorian most of all. He never wanted to be anything as ambitious as Mandalorian, but he wanted to be notorious and dangerous and most of all he wanted her to be happy. They both knew what it would take for her to become Mandalorian: winning the Great Hunt. Of course, the Great Hunt would be no small task, and as much as they hated the idea, she needed outside help.

He remembers being contacted by a man named Braden through a friend of a friend of a friend's friend. Braden had heart of Tau'seret Rozenhart, recently choosing to go by Tau'seret Rozenhart Aurell, and her skills with two blasters. Reev loved to brag about her ability to shoot with her eyes closed and still be able to hit her mark with decent precision. Spectators in shady cantinas always loved it and she always kept the truth a secret until her Reev found her off-handedly using what he later learned to be the Force to levitate a piece of fruit.

He remembers laughing so hard when she realized she had been found out and worried he'd think her a freak. Of course, when he stopped laughing he calmly explained that some of his own family was Force-sensitive, but not himself. She took the opportunity to share about her sister Jae who had been indoctrinated into the Jedi Order at a young age. She explained that she didn't want to become a Jedi, so she refused the offer and decided to learn how to shoot from the Black Sun on Coruscant. He promised to never real her secret and without hesitating, she blurted out that she loved him. It was the same night that Braden contacted them about wanting to recruit Tau'seret.

He remembers being awed and a little dumbstruck by her revelation. That night they made love for the first time and continued to do so till the moment their ship fell from the sky and crash-landed onto Hutta. It was the only significant change in their relationship: the change between simply fucking and making love.

He remembers when they decided to ship off to Hutta, a week after they had been contacted by Braden. He punched in the coordinates and let the ship handle the rest for once. He hadn't been able to keep his eyes or his hands off her that night, to the point where he outright told her, "give me a second while I punch in these coordinates to that rotting piece of Hutt shit for a planet and then I'll properly drag you to our quarters where you belong—sprawled out ontop of me." She had made the sarcastic remark, "Always the romantic sort, huh Reev?" They laughed all the way to their quarters after their ship was on its way.

He remembers telling her that he loved her that night for the first time while caressing her cheek with her curled up against his chest. He hadn't said it week before because he forgot amidst all the commotion. He knew that she knew regardless of three little words that didn't mean as much as the expression itself.

He remembers the ship reporting to them that they would be arriving shortly. So they forced themselves to get dressed again and ready to land.

He remembers everything going just as planned, until the ship said something about DANGER! APPROACHING DANGER! DANGER! APPROACHING MISSILES AT SEVEN O'CLOCK! In fact it was at that moment that Reev realized that they hadn't received proper landing clearance anyways. But it was too late to react.

He remembers the impact of the first four missiles, the resulting explosions, and their home being torn apart in Hutta's atmosphere. At some point the ship began to fall apart as more missiles impacted with the ship's shell and they were separated by the blasts. The computer went on and on about danger in a shrieking voice.

Reev remembers watching his home die all around him. It was his home. He didn't have a planet to call home. But their ship was home. And he watched it burn.

He remembers not remembering much when he woke up stranded on Hutta's surface amongst pieces of flaming wreckage and toxic waste and fumes. His entire body was inflamed and he was quite positive that his shoulder was dislocated and his arm was broken. He stared out at the wreckage and then remembered. There was no point in mourning the remains then. He knew that there would be another time for that.

Reev remembers not finding Tau'seret amongst the rubble and debris. He found memories on fire, scattered moments hidden amongst the muck, passing visions like holovids with each step he took. She was no where to be found. He looked thoroughly but there was no point once the pain in his shoulder overcame the magnitude of pain in his chest. He would mourn his home and its fellow occupant some other time.

Reev left the burning wreckage and told himself to not look back.

He remembers wandering to the main settlement on Hutta that had a spaceport. Jigunna. He hid amongst the seedy crowd, presuming that his presence was surely not welcome. Someone on the planet, he presumed one of the presiding Hutts, had a grudge against him (not a surprise) and shot their ship down. He thought about finding this Braden and telling him that his champion (Reev already knew she would have won) was dead, but decided against it. He needed to get off-world fast. He unhappily needed a new ship and knew that he had to steal one on-planet. There would be no chance going through the Hutt Cartel's security he was a wanted man.

So he stole a cargo ship, a freighter that was nothing like their dirty, always purring, not a piece of junk, thank you very much ship that had at one time made him so happy to be alive and free, oh so free. Not it felt like a burden.

Reev was free, he knew it to be very true when he broke out of the hyperspace jump from Hutta after navigating under the radar. But he remembers feeling far from alive. He headed straight for Coruscant and decided that he needed a few drinks, maybe eight or nine, to help take the edge off. It did, a little. He spent a few days planet-side, wandering the streets of Coruscant and getting in touch with his Black Sun contacts. Reev and Tau'seret's mutual friend, the friend whom they had indirectly met through, needed to be told that she had died pursuing the one thing she loved and wanted so badly. They raised a shot to her that night.

He remembers having to begrudgingly work for the Republic and staying low for several months in order to stay alive in that volatile time period.

He remembers the job of taking Republic supplies, primarily weapons, to the front lines on Ord Mantell. He remembers meeting the kid and Skavic. He had been off the entire time he had been working for the Republic, and as a result, had grown naive to think that the so-called agents of the Republic could be automatically trusted. He had been a blind fool and he knew it. He'd lost another ship. It reopened the old wound.

He remembers drinking with Corso Riggs that night in the fort's cantina amongst military personnel. The kid knew better than to ask him why he was drinking so much, besides for the obvious reason of losing his ship. Riggs had been kind enough to drag him to a spare bunk in the kid's quarters for the night.

He remembers not remembering much of the previous night and the conversation. He hoped that he hadn't shared too much with the kid. Thankfully, he hadn't. He remembers sharing a meal with Riggs that morning after, each of them severely hungover. He could see her in the corners of his vision, all durasteel armor and blonde hair and muscle and curves. He could hear her voice if he tried hard enough. When he looked in the mirror, he saw himself for what felt like the first time. And in the corner of the mirror, he saw her.

He remembers hardly recognizing her. There were brutal, nasty scars on her neck and lower chin and a metal device on her forehead. She stood with her arms folded and a sad look on her face.

He blinked and she was gone.

It took the yelling of the cowboy kid to wake him up from his own dozing off. There were other things to worry about. There was a ship and a blaster they needed to steal back.


	2. Some Nights I Always Win

**Warning**: _Some violence, alcohol usage, drunken behavior, cursing._

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**Some Nights A Gambler Always Wins  
**

Chapter Two

"Don't understand how you can stand these planets." Torian says as he follows behind his fellow Mandalorian and partner as they wander through the busy crowds on Nar Shaddaa's Lower Promenade.

"Takes getting used to, I guess."

"Too many people. Can't hunt."

Tau'seret glances over her shoulder momentarily in order to offer him a grin. She shrugs but still holds onto the matching helmet that's pressed against her side. She turns her head away in order to scan the crowd. "It's a different kind of hunting, I guess." She stops and Torian stops beside her. She places a durasteel covered hand onto his shoulder armor. "C'mon, just relax. We're not here to hunt. Mako kicked us out since apparently we're too stir crazy for our own good."

"Easier said than done. Don't like this place."

Tau'seret attempts to offer one of her usual snarky grins, but if she were to be honest with herself, she isn't entirely a fan of the memories that rush back into her mind as they walk past the setting of those memories. However, she knows better than to let her mind drift _there_, and she has to remind herself that a planet's a planet, and memories or not, they're here for shore leave because it was the closest planet with a somewhat friendly spaceport.

So she thinks on it and attempts to come up with a plan to help loosen Torian up. As they stand in the middle of the busy crowd of the marketplace, people have to walk around them. She drags the fellow blonde out of the crowd towards one of the emptier areas on the promenade. She fishes for her holocom attached to her belt and, once found, calls back to the ship.

It's a grumpy Mako who picks up. "Yeah, what's up boss?"

"Hey, why don't you c'mon down to the Slippery Slopes. Torian and I are going to get a drink. Bring Gault and Blizz. It'll be fun! And we need to celebrate, anyways, you know, for being taken off that stupid Republic hit list. It's about time we did something together."

The holographic Mako rubs her likely tired eyes, but ends up nodding. "You're right. This ship's making me anxious. I'll see if the others are interested. If Gault isn't, I'm pretty sure Blizz will be."

"Just keep your eye on Blizz. I bet he'll love this planet, so don't be surprised if he tries to wander off to go discombobulate some Cartel droids. Remember what happened on Belsavis? Yeah. I do too. Let's not have a repeat of that." Torian laughs beside her and she tilts her head to throw him a _no-it's-not-funny-those-prison-droids-nearly-shot-my-arm-off_-glare.

"Alright," Mako chuckles briefly, "I guess we'll see you in a bit."

"Till then," Tau'seret salutes her goodbye and then shuts off the holocom. "Well, off to the cantina then? I know you'll never turn down a drinking challenge."

"You know I don't turn down _any_ challenge."

"Well then you're on, hot-shot."

* * *

Reev Aurell can't decide which planet he hates more: Nar Shaddaa or Hutta. He wonders which one he'd destroy if he ever had the option to blow one up to smithereens. Most days, he'll always pick Hutta over Nar Shaddaa (because better to destroy the planet that destroyed her, right?).

He's in one of those brilliantly sour moods as he sits in Nar Shaddaa's Slippery Slopes cantina, leaning against the wall behind him, shot glass in hand, and a half-way empty bottle of strong Corellian liquor on the table. His legs are stretched and crossed, resting on top of the table beside the bottle. Every now and then he refills his glass and takes the shot without so much as a grimace. Nar Shaddaa always had a way of making him break his own rules: he hadn't had a drink in over a year. Reev doesn't feel weaker for it, but he knows that tomorrow morning he'll regret his decision and be disappointed in himself.

The cantina's busy, as it always is during the evening. It's even more populous due to the sudden rise in activity as a result of the Chevin Conglomerate's latest "Grand Acquisitions Race." It was why he had even (reluctantly) bothered to come to the planet, at the insistence of Risha and the encouragement of Corso (though he knew Corso just wanted shore leave, which Reev could, of course, understand on occasion, just not now, not on Nar Shaddaa).

The regulars are all here in the cantina: the dancers, the con artists, the fellow smugglers, mercenaries, and Imperial and Republic soldiers alike looking for a quick lay. Across from where he's seated, on the other side of the bar counter, at the corner of his vision, there's a large crowd of people circled around, if he's to assume, two people perhaps having a drinking contest as every so often he hears chanting and cheering a moment later. After the cheers die down, he sees people reaping the rewards of lucky betting or cutting their losses while they can.

"Cap'n?"

He grumbles to himself. He glances to his left and, _yep_, it's the kid, Corso Riggs. His eyebrows are raised in surprise and Reev looks away quickly. He mutters something about never being alone.

"What're ya doin' here?"

"Just mind your own business, kay kid?" Reev growls. He closes his eyes and presses his head back against the much cooler metal wall. Once the cheering has stopped temporarily, as the crowd stands huddled anxiously and waits for the results of the next round, he sits up and reaches for the bottle on the table. Corso tries to stop him by grabbing the bottle as well.

They both stare at each other, and Reev blinks once as if in warning, a clear caveat that screams _back off_. His grey eyes are dark and sharp; the low lighting (save for the neon lights) of the cantina does nothing to lessen this effect.

"C'mon Captain, what's got you? You haven't reached for the bottle since the first night we met."

"I said back off."

Corso doesn't lift his hand. Corso stares back and has a partial inkling as to what's got his captain breaking his own slim list of rules:

1. _No one gets on my ship drunk, you got that right? If you're plannin' on gettin' drunk, steer clear of the spaceport, because I'm _not_ lettin' you in. Don't care if you're hollerin' and throwin' up all over the place. I'm not holdin' your hair for you._

2. _Don't let me get drunk. Ever. _

3_. Don't go into my quarters. Ever._

'Course, Corso knows that everyone on the ship has broken one of these rules at least once. Risha had dragged Corso back onto the ship once while he was drunk, and, to make matters worse, Risha couldn't drag Corso to his own bunk, so he plopped him in Reev's room. Of course, Risha blackmailed him for his drunken mutterings, and Corso used Risha breaking rule number 3 against her. Matters were even increasingly more fragile when she spilled the beans about a certain holopic Reev had in his quarters to him. He didn't want to know about the blonde woman who's picture rested on the shelf above his captain's bed. But, in the end he figured that he was already a dead man either way, so this extra bit of information couldn't make matters any worse, _right?_

"I'll cut your hand off."

Corso raises a brow and laughs nervously. "Uh, right."

"Let go of the bottle."

"I'm not breakin' rule number two."

Reev gapes at the soldier for perhaps a nano second, and then firmly states, "Screw the rules," he flashes his eyes back and forth from the kid's hand up to his eyes. He fishes into his jacket's pocket, searching for his retractable vibro-knife.

"You _can't_ be serious."

Reev grumbles and mutters something about needing bigger pockets, because he's simply lost track of his retractable vibro-knife (custom-made by a friend's friend, he always liked to add), and instead pulls out a half eaten piece of chocolate that's still partially in its wrapper, to which he can't exactly remember why he would ever dare forget about chocolate (how dare he forget to finish it). Still, he blinks at Corso and points the bar of chocolate as threateningly as possible.

The younger man doesn't know whether he should laugh or sigh at his captain's feeble threat.

"This could kill you, you know," he unwraps the piece of chocolate, exposing his "weapon", "if you just so happened to be allergic to chocolate, or milk, or whatever chocolate's made out of these days."

"Yeah. I'm shakin' in my boots, cap'n."

Corso sighs and releases the bottle, figuring that there's no point in prolonging the inevitable.

Reev momentarily smiles manically. "Atta boy!" He eagerly takes a bite of the chocolate, and, while chewing, states, "See, breakin' rules is fun, ain't it?" He promptly finishes the piece of chocolate and then pours himself a shot and takes it in one gulp.

"Yeah, right."

The fleeting pretense of good humor and sarcasm fades from his captain, after gotten his way. "Now _scram_." Reev and Corso stare at each other again, but Reev gets the picture: his companion isn't leaving. "Why're you even here, anyways? Where's the rest of that sorry bunch? Don't tell me you came here to whine about Risha or Akaavi, because I'm no way in hell interested in any of that."

Corso hesitates. It appears like he's stewing on an idea and wondering. He thinks about the conversation from before with Risha, back on the ship.

_"You ought to keep an eye on him, Riggs. Something isn't right about him. He sure didn't seem too excited to come here. Captain Aurell usually doesn't almost turn down beneficial business opportunities."_

_Corso nods and shrugs. "I don't know. I've got a bad feelin', s'all."_

_Risha rolls her eyes. "All the more reason for you to follow him."_

"—So look, if Risha's asked you to follow me around, why don't you walk your ass back up to the spaceport and tell Risha she can mind her own damn business. I don't need a kid to tell me when I should and shouldn't drink."

Corso blinks and shakes his head. "Nah. Got me all wrong, cap'n. Wanted a drink, s'all."

Reev scoffs. "Yeah, well, get your own bottle."

"Right." Silence falls between them as Corso waits for the waiter-droid to make its rounds again in order to buy a drink, though something much lighter on the alcoholic spectrum (Corso's properly learned his limits thanks to Risha's begrudging help [he never wants what happened in the past on Reev's ship to happen again, he's learned his lesson]).

The crowd on the other side of the circular bar erupts into roars of cheers again, and from the sound of things, Reev somewhat makes out that someone's close to winning—or actually, if he listens closely (as best as he can, that is, the liquor's starting to really get to him), he realizes that someone's actually won. He turns his piqued attention away from Corso entirely and focuses on the now finished drinking match. The final rewards and losses are dealt with and the crowd thins out in that corner of the cantina.

Reev waits as the crowd dissipates entirely and watches as the cantina returns back to it's usual rhythm, of dancing and danger and almost sex and liquor. He sees a small group seated around a circular table. There's a devaronian with one of it's horns chipped, a small Jawa tinkering absentmindedly with something, a blonde male passed out in his seat, slouched entirely against the flat surface of the table, and two women: a dark skinned brunette and a blonde armored to the teeth. The blonde's facing away from him, chatting away with the devaronian and the brunette, but there's something about her, something about this blonde, if only he just squints, he thinks maybe he can see through the fog his own stupid brain's created—

"—Is it about the blond in the picture?" Corso says, completely catching Reev off-guard.

Reev's head swivels sharply towards the soldier.

"Excuse me?"

"Uh, well, c'mon Cap'n, you're going to have to explain who she is eventually—"

It only takes a good flick of Reev's wrist for him to unholster his blaster, grab Corso, and press him against the barrel. He pushes it into the kid's armor-covered-stomach. His finger shakes on the trigger. Corso knows the very distinct difference between joking around and pure danger and that Reev means business, friend-when-sober or not. Both of them know that no one's going to object in this cantina. It's Nar Shaddaa, after all (just don't let any blood spill onto the tile, it's a pain to clean up).

"Just what are you playin' at, huh, kid?"

"Hey, hey, easy, easy." He coughs out a laugh. "Uh, I uh—"

"Who the _hell_ gave you permission into my quarters, huh?"

"It was sort of an accident—"

"Well who was it?"

"Rish—"

He forces Corso away with a firm push and stands up from his seat, if not sluggishly. Without paying for his long list of drinks, he crosses the bar as best as he can, moving in between tables and people, in order to head out of the bar. Corso then starts to run after him.

"C'mon Reev, it's not her fault!" He yells after him.

Reev can't think straight and he's too far lost in his own memories, too far lost in images of short blonde hair, green eyes, a wide smile, blaster-fire, the hum of their ship, _their_ ship, their beautiful, gorgeous ship, and every step he takes on the this rotten, bottom of the barrel planet rattles his thoughts and attempts to in-turn, rattle his bones till they break. He almost thinks he's out of the kid's reach, almost out of the cantina, almost about to make a break for the speeder port, when he stumbles into a fully solid, heavily armored individual that's stood up and turned to also leave the cantina at the wrong time.

Reev almost loses his footing and balance, but a gloved durasteel hand reaches out and steadies him, causing him to look up at the armored figure. The individual's figure denotes a female, and she's dressed in heavy armor that clearly screams Mandalorian and is light purple and blue, though the colors are difficult to distinguish in the low cantina light. She's wearing a matching helmet with a darkened visor. Despite having steadied himself, the woman does not remove her hand from his shoulder, and Reev isn't sure if whether or not he should be reaching for his blaster. Even more startling, she seems to be running her fingers down his clothed arm.

Corso catches him and pulls him back by the shoulder, yanking him away from the woman and getting a firm hold on the man's body (in case he attempts to make a break for it). The soldier also notices the iconic armor of the person Reev's just-so-happened-to-stumble-into and starts to quickly apologize as best as he can, knowing well enough that this is one of the top five causes of bar fights (whether planned or not). It especially alarms him as the woman has other people with her, standing just behind her, beside the table they've just got up from. A devaronian, a dark skinned brunette, and another male blonde who's wearing the same style of armor, a clear Mandalorian despite being knocked out cold. He's also caught onto the fact that the female Mandalorian hasn't removed her hand.

_That's it, we're dead. I doubt Reev can shoot straight while drunk._ Corso hopes it isn't his last set of thoughts. _Oh, I am so happy that Risha isn't seeing this._

"Taus?" The brunette asks. Her own expression mirrors Reev's and Corso's. "You coming?"

"Yeah, c'mon," the devaronian adds, "I think Torian's starting to wake up, or maybe that's the sensation of my pride being torn apart by this entire situation. Though I'd love to see him potentially throw up on Mako's brand new shoes—"

The brunette gapes. "I'll turn his head so that he throws up on _you!_"

The female Mandalorian looks down at her own hand and it jolts away from Reev's forearm, as if she's been burned (or perhaps, alternatively, Corso figures, caught doing something she shouldn't be doing).

"Taus?" Reev barely whispers.

She looks at Reev once more and then turns and walks away, following after her own companions.

Corso doesn't expect the violent struggling from his captain as a result of the entire situation. He narrows his brows and doesn't give an inch for Reev.

"Okay Captain, I'm startin' to get real tired of all this. Now I'm startin' to understand why you created rule number two. You're a pain in the ass and you do need to be babysat." Corso starts to drag a struggling Reev out of the cantina.

"Just let me go!"

"I'm not going to do that and you know it."

"You don't understand—"

"Oh, no, I understand alright."

They've barely made it out of the cantina onto the lower promenade, with the distant music of the Slippery Slopes in the background and the Twi'lek vocal advertisements overhead, and Corso decides that's he's simply _had enough_.

"Oh c'mon captain! What is it now? What're you going to do? Huh? Run back to the spaceport and yell at Risha?"

"No! Just let me go for a minute and I'll tell you."

Corso obliges with a little added force, pushing his captain away from him, and Reev stands up straight. The soldier's surprised to see that his captain is no longer seething, but instead, his expression is on the entirely opposite side of the spectrum: he looks like he's seen a ghost, pale as a hologram and everything.

"I can't explain. Just tell me." Reev steps forward and holds Corso by the shoulders firmly, hoping to drill his question in precisely. "Look around. Do you see where that Mandalorian and her companions went? C'mon, help me out!"

"What's this all about now? What are you going on about?"

"Just help me out, alright? I'll owe you a hell of a cut from our next payment."

Corso can't complain about the sudden shift his captain's emotions have taken, and he does like the sound of extra credits, so he nods and looks around. Four eyes are better than two, he figures, though he can't understand why Reev is so eager to follow after a Mandalorian. _Aren't Mandalorians apart of the Empire?_ He isn't too sure, but either way, he's got a bad feeling about—

"Nevermind, I've got _her_." Reev states quickly and he's already running off in some random direction away from Corso, who's too confused to yell anything after him.

* * *

Reev's never felt more sure about anything in his life before. He's not hallucinating. He knows that the dead aren't walking amongst the stars, and he can't help but put one leg before the other, despite the cramping in his legs and the throbbing in his head. The only two words his brain can process are this: _find her_. After all these years of not looking, all he wants to do is run to her. He's tired of missed opportunities and ignoring skeletons in his closet. He knows he should have looked for her, done at least a scan over the holonet, though he knows that maybe she would have been too difficult to find without proper help from a slicer. _Maybe she didn't want to be found_, he muses, _maybe she needed to remain hidden in the galaxy, maybe she needed to lie low._

_She's Mandalorian_. He can't believe it. _She's_ really_ Mandalorian._

He wonders how she survived the crash. He wonders if he she competed in the Great Hunt afterall, he wonders if she's become famous in the Empire, if she's a hero or a villain or a criminal or a scoundrel—_no, not a scoundrel_, he laughs to himself (manically of course, that's all he can offer now, mania as he's running in and around the remaining people on the Upper Promenade), no she's certainly still his ambitious "Hired-Gun-And-Occasionally-Hired-Medic" that he fell in love with all those years ago, still the woman who made him laugh and grin. They shared the galaxy and a bed together, shared crime and passion and credits and carelessness. She still was Tau'seret, right?

And then it all crashes down upon him. Ten years. A decade. That's how long it's been since they lost their ship and he walked away from the wreckage, leaving her physical form dead, but still holding the memories with him. He stops running, or at least he's simply just walking now. He'd been able to cope after dealing with the pain and falling into a routine, because it's always easier to bottle pain, attach a note, and toss it out into a sea and hope that maybe it'll never wash ashore again. He's never felt emptier. He's never felt more lost.

His feet stop in a quiet, empty alleyway connected to the Upper Promenade, and he stands with his head lowered. His black hair is ruffled and messed up to the point where a quick run through with his hand does nothing to assuage the signs of someone who's been running for too long.

He decides to give up. There's no point in pursuing an old, more harmful than good memory. It doesn't matter if it's his Taus'eret or another woman who walked away from the wreckage—_it doesn't matter._ The past is the past; a cruel siren that will always continue to call his name if he allows himself to hear its call. Reev figures that it's time to finally walk away from the wreckage after all of these years.

Before he can act upon his own decision, he feels the barrel of a blaster being pressed into his back and a gloved arm wrapping around his neck. Reev isn't sure of whether or not he should laugh at the irony (wait till he tells Risha that he's about to be captured by a mercenary who's going to cash in the bounty on his head after all these years!). He glances downwards as best as he can at the arm around his neck and catches sight of the blaster that this arm's hand is holding: a custom, one of a kind blaster, one that he certainly recognizes. He closes his eyes and sighs a curse.

Before he knows what's entirely going on, he's shoved forward and he sharply turns around. The female Mandalorian from the cantina stands before him, pointing a blaster to him.

"Care to explain who the hell you are?"

"Care to explain who the hell _you_ are?" He retorts.

"I asked first."

"I asked second."

Reev hears a muffled snarl. She reaches up with her free hand and removes her helmet, tossing it to the side, allowing it to clatter against the ground. He can't help but inhale sharply. Whoever this woman is, this _imposter_, just so happens to really be, he can't deny that they got the details right, save for a few new details. Her hair is short and blonde, though cut unevenly to her shoulders all around with bangs. There is a metal device on her forehead, though somewhat obscured by her bangs. It's an implant he presumes—_oh don't tell me, please, please don't tell me some sick sonovabitch found her body on Hutta and somehow patched her back up and now she's some brainless droid_—and scars trailing down from her right cheekbone down the side of her face to the beginnings of her metal armor. Her eyes are still green, just like how he perfectly remembers.

"What did they do to you?" He says, no chokes out (he hates to admit it, but he's certainly finding it difficult to process the possibility that someone may have _rebuilt_ her, of all the things in the universe).

"No one did anything to me." She narrows her brows and doesn't lighten up. "The question is, what did they do to you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You died." She rolls her eyes, though he notices that it's moreso because she's trying to not let emotion break out across her face not for the sake of sarcasm.

"What do you mean? I didn't—I-I looked and, you weren't—"

"All I remember is waking up on a med-bay in Jigunna. One of the factory workers found me and took me to Jigunna, apparently. Braden recognized me. Guess he heard about the ship that crash landed onto Hutta, and thought maybe we died. Don't get me wrong, they had to fix me up, install an implant in order to keep my frontal lobe in tact. I was pretty banged up."

"I dislocated a shoulder and nearly had my arm sawed off."

"Yeah?" She says through a clenched jaw, and it's clear now that she's trying not to cry, though she can't help if the emotion's starkly displayed on her face. "Well what about you? How come you didn't come looking for me?"

"What do you mean? I told you! I couldn't find you."

"Y-you liar." She whispers as her brows narrow again and a couple tears break from her eyes. The hand holding her gun remains steady, however. "My Reev would have come for me." She closes her eyes, as if to pause in order to recollect herself, and once she's reopened them, she's entirely lost her ability to control her emotions. "So you can drop the charade, alright? Tell me who you are. What kind of sick Sith ritual allowed you to possess a dead body, huh? Who's apprentice are you? What is this about? Is your master exacting his revenge because I killed Darth Tormen?"

"Taus, I had no idea you were alive. Don't you think I would have come for you had I had the option? We were shot down from Hutta's atmosphere because someone wanted us dead. I had to get off planet as soon as possible." He frowns and feels a wave of guilt rush over him. "I was selfish, a coward." He pauses and shakes his head. "I knew the Hutts would kill me if they found me. So I got off planet as soon as I could. Even if you were alive somehow, someway, you needed to be on Hutta regardless. You had bigger dreams than me."

Reev sighs in relief as she lowers her blaster. "And look at you." He laughs and smiles half-heartedly. "You finally did it after all these years. You made something of yourself. I bet you won that tournament, didn't you?"

"I looked for you," she whispers. "I had Mako search the holonet, but you weren't anywhere to be found. You'd think a notorious bastard such as yourself would somehow manage to leave some form of a paper trail."

"I laid low." He frowns and closes his eyes tightly. He curses himself for not looking harder. "I should have looked. I should have stayed in denial."

Tau'seret blinks away tears. When he reopens his eyes, he closes the gap between them and pulls her against him. They're about the same height for once, despite her wearing heavy armor that gives her an extra two inches. He reaches up and touches her cheeks. She never breaks his eye contact.

"Just once," he whispers, "just once, let me have a stroke of good luck. Let me win this hand."

Reev closes the last bit of space between them and kisses her as if he'll never be able to kiss her again.


	3. Some Nights I Always Lose

**Author's Note**: _As stated in chapter one, this has some spoilers. In particular, Bounty Hunter Act III ending spoilers (least for the light side choice)!_

* * *

**Some Nights A Gambler Always Wins  
**

Chapter Three

He isn't surprised that she hesitates. It takes all of her will to not give in, but all of her will isn't enough. Her arms wrap around him and they fit together like gears in a starship's engine. He kisses her without restraint, without humility, and without shame. His hands run through her blonde hair that's a little inevitably sweaty due to wearing the helmet. She presses against him, cool, solid metal against soft, pliant leather that bends into her. Her gloved hands find their way into the inside of his brown jacket and run over the white shirt he wears underneath, feeling and experiencing an old rush that had once been as familiar to her as the back of her own hand.

He doesn't care who sees them. All he allows himself to care about is her, everything that consists of Tau'seret. Her little gasps as they push and pull upon the others' lips, his unrestrained groans that fall between his own. Her lips are just as delicious as he remembers. His brain is so engrossed in the experience, sucking the endorphins like poison from a wound, that he fails to hear the approaching footsteps and the resulting gasp—it's all too far away from his ears, as he'd rather hear her.

It's like he's found the perfect drug all over again, and he's too scared to let it physically go as he isn't looking forward to the withdrawal, like any good addict. But the time comes, and she's the one to pull away due to her hearing being the first to fully return to her. She looks over his shoulder. Her eyes close and she sighs.

Reev knows that expression all too well: regret.

His hands fall away from her and he blinks hard, trying to understand what's come over her. He still doesn't realize that there's someone standing a few feet behind him, and that they've been caught red handed like the two criminals they are. His senses return, and against his better ones, he glances over his shoulder and sees the dark skinned brunette.

"Mako," Tau'seret states firmly, as if she's trying to fix the entire situation by feigning seriousness.

This Mako doesn't appear very happy. She narrows her brows and glares at her companion. Reev steps aside and turns to face the other woman.

"Care to explain what you're doing?"

Tau'seret blinks and opens her mouth to say something, but takes it back at the last second. She continues to blink, but instead stands entirely speechless. He's never seen her like this. The sudden tension in her features dwarfs the anger in her friend's.

"Catching up," Reev states casually as he puts his hands into his pockets.

"Right, I'm not talking to _you_ buddy," Mako snaps back, raising a finger to point at him, all while walking over to Tau'seret. Once she's standing before her friend, she slaps her across the face.

The Mandalorian's mouth drops open, though she isn't angry at the brunette's painful choice of expressing her emotions.

"I-I was just—" Tau'seret's eyes are wide and she's rubbing her reddening cheek. She once again can't find the right words to describe what she's done. "Uh," she looks over to Reev and frowns, "… catching up, I guess."

"And here I was, thinking you actually had developed a sense of _honor!_"

"This isn't what it looks like," she hurriedly replies, "look, you've gotta believe me Mako—"

"You think I'm stupid?" Mako shakes her head and bites her lip. "I may have metal inside of my skull, but apparently not as much as you do!"

"Look, he's just," Tau'seret points to Reev, "just an old friend."

The brunette once against doesn't buy it, and she throws her hands up into the air. "Like I haven't heard that one before."

Now he's starting to get confused, himself. He reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, raises a brow, and points between Mako and Tau'seret. "Are you two a couple, or something?"

Tau'seret groans and rubs her eyes. Mako's even more furious.

"Uh, no!" She laughs and turns her attention solely on Reev, who catches the death glare and knows that this woman means business. "No, we're not. She just so happens to be my boss and _my_ friend." She presses a finger into his chest. "And who are you, huh? Who do you think you are, waltzing around? Think you can stumble into the Champion of the Great Hunt and try to get a quick feel? What are you, some kind of sick creep?"

"No, I'm actually a very healthy creep," he can't help but flash a grin momentarily. He glances towards Tau'seret, who isn't at all amused by the situation, but appearing even more regretful than before. He knows he has to turn the situation around completely, before her overprotective friend decides to pull her blaster on him.

"I'm a widower," he soberly states. "Or well, _was_, I guess."

Mako studies him closely, as if she's trying to use her brilliant brain to solve what really should be a simple puzzle or algorithm. She realizes she's underestimated this man, this complete stranger who somehow knows her friend. Her own eyes widen when she figures it out.

"Y-you're him," she utters, half-surprised and half-incredulous. "But we looked all over the Holonet—_I_ looked, you were no where to be found prior to the crash, _no where_—"

"I nearly died. I had to stay low." He looks from Mako to Tau'seret. "Kalls helped me out, Taus. Remember him?"

Mako glances over her shoulder, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, I do." She smiles half-heartedly. "Best slicer in all of the Black Sun gang on Coruscant. Could erase someone pretty decently."

"But not _completely._" Mako affirms. "The only people who can maybe, just maybe erase someone completely for as long as it's been, that's, that's maybe, just maybe, the work of an intelligence organization, if anyone—"

"Don't need much covering up if all you're doing is helping the Republic with the rebuilding and war effort, if all you ask for in return is a thirty percent cut and their silence." Reev pauses and shrugs. "Wasn't much I could do. Someone wanted us dead on Hutta. I wasn't about to risk my own life by strutting around the galaxy."

Tau'seret swallows hard and Mako raises a brow. "Yeah, about that."

Now it's Reev's turn to raise a brow, and he looks to the mercenary expectantly.

"I know who tried to shoot us down." She frowns and looks away from them both. "Blood. Tarro Blood."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," the brunette clearly likes the word _wait_, "you're telling me that Tarro Blood somehow managed to shoot down your ship."

"He told me, Blood. Right as he was bleedin' on the floor." She pauses. "One final taunt and all. Said he organized it in hopes that I'd be taken out of the competition from the start, prior to meeting you and Braden and Jory."

"H-he tried to kill you beforehand." Mako looks down and steps towards Tau'seret. Before the Mandalorian can protest, the brunette pulls her friend into a tight hug.

"I can't believe it. That piece of trash was trying to hit you from the very beginning."

Reev folds his arms across his chest and cocks his head towards Mako, gesturing for her to explain. "Alright, alright, care to explain who this 'piece of trash' was?"

"A Mandalorian who wanted to ensure victory in the Great Hunt, at any means." Mako explains. "He killed Braden and Jory, Taus' sponsors, while we were beginning to arrange for Nem'ro's sponsorship."

He nods. Mako then steps back, away from the two and she stands awkwardly, from rubbing her arms as if she's cold to fumbling with a loose strap on her coat to scratching her neck. "I-uh, I guess I oughtta head back and check up on Torian. Gault and Blizz were dragging him back to the ship. Probably there by now."

"Torian? Was that the blonde kid with you?"

Tau'seret and Mako share a look, one that Reev doesn't understand since he doesn't know this side of the Mandalorian's life. Eventually, Tau'seret turns her head and nods. "He's… well he's not really a kid, only a couple of years younger—"

"—he's an Mandalorian."

"Yeah," nods and smiles, "I figured from the armor."

"Listen, I'll just be going." Mako looks away. "I'll tell Torian that you've been held up by this whole Chevin thing, or something. Probably won't remember it tomorrow morning, but at least it's something."

"No, don't. Just tell him the truth. That I'm just talking to an old friend." She scratches her neck, over the scars. "I'll explain it tomorrow, when he's not going on about toast and all that."

The brunette nods, but still shrugs. She then smiles half-heartedly at Reev and then walks away. Once Mako's out of hearing range, the two remaining in the alley look toward each other. He doesn't know what to say, though she appears to be chewing on whether or not she should explain just who Torian is to her. But it's perhaps the first time that awkward silence has ever fallen between them, and neither are comfortable with it, so instead of prolonging it, they fall into sad, somber laughs.

"So I bet you've been racking in the credits ever since you won the Great Hunt."

They start to walk, slowly, lazily, through the alleyway, following the same path as Mako.

"It opened up a whole lot of doors, let's just say."

"Now that I think about it, I didn't hear much about it. Nothing on the holoNET."

"Mandalorians keep it hush hush. Don't need a competition that's supposed to be about honor and the glory of the hunt to become political with the intervention of the Empire or the Republic. Plus," she grins, "no taxes on the rewards."

"So what's probably the biggest hunt you've had, then?" he asks as they turn a corner and head down the hallway that leads to the speeder port.

"Worked for the Empire for the past couple of years." She wrinkles her nose. "Worked for a Darth in regards to the war effort on Corellia."

"How was it?"

"Hated every moment of it." She says abruptly. She shakes her head and sighs. "I mean, well, it was great pay, but I was treated like a Sith's personal executioner. Had to deal with all that mind game crap."

"Why work for one then?"

"Didn't have much of a choice, really." She frowns. "As I said, when you're the winner of the Great Hunt, people find out eventually. They find out that you're the one who killed so and so during the competition, and they want revenge. Even Jedi. It's a really, really long story."

"You'll have to tell me it some night."

Tau'seret stops walking and he hates the look in her eyes, and he wants to make it go away, because he isn't ready to see it. It's a look that screams doubt and regret and fear. He's never seen her so shaken as he has this entire night.

She catches him staring at her, and she apologizes. "It's just hard."

"I know."

They start walking again, though this time the tension's noticeably and inevitably present. He's never felt this way around her: as if he's walking on glass that's starting to crack, make the wrong move, apply too much weight, and it shatters.

"So tell me the short version then."

"I was basically wanted by the Jedi Order and the SIS. Accused of killing people I'd never heard of before. Wanted dead or alive, really. This Darth promised he'd clear my name. Course, I didn't trust him at all, especially when I was helping him out on Corellia to dismantle the Republic."

"I'd heard rumors about a bounty hunter dismantling CorSec from a contact, but it was just news to me."

"I killed the Jedi who had accused me of all that, but I still needed to convince the rest of the two organizations. The Darth gave me one last bounty, eventually, to secure the Grand Chancellor's fleet and captured the Chancellor. So I stormed through the fleet with my crew, and cornered the man. He gave me a better offer though: a completely clean slate and offered clientele from within the Republic. I took it, of course, because I guess if I'm going to be working for someone, I'd rather work for the Republic on the side, rather than the Empire on the side."

"Politics."

Tau'seret laughs for a good few minutes, and tries to say, "_Politics_," in between said laughs with a proper eyeroll.

"Now _that_ I'd heard of. Not the big-shot bounty hunter storming his fleet and all, but of him stepping down from the position."

She stops walking again and tries to pout, but instead starts to laugh. "Who're you calling a big-shot?"

"The only big-shot I know in this galaxy."

"Better a big-shot than a _scoundrel_." She grins and covers her mouth in order to stifle her laughs.

Reev can't help it. It's too much like old times. Too much like how it once was. In a good instant he's got her pressed up against one of the walls in the hallway, kissing her without abandon. She gasps in surprise, completely caught off guard (her better senses have been off the entire evening), and she runs her fingers through his short, messy black hair, running her fingers over his scalp and relishing a little too much in it.

He abruptly pulls away and gapes down at her leg after having tried to lift her armored leg in order to bend it at the knee. He's inflamed all over again, and he wonders if she used that word, that one word he so wickedly enjoys—scoundrel—in order to elicit a response such as this from him. However, he's underestimated how heavy her armor really is, and he can barely lift her leg more than two inches off of the ground.

"Damn woman, either I'm a complete wuss or you're toned as hell beneath all this." He grins when he catches the flush on her cheeks as well as a small, knowing quirk to her lips. He leans in again, capturing her lower lip and sucking on it for a moment's notice before pulling away and muttering, "How do you manage to run?"

"The armor's like a second skin."

"It's a skin that looks great on you, but I'd rather see the original layer."

Tau'seret frowns and can no longer meet his gaze. He sighs, narrows his brows, and reaches up to tilt her head back to face him. "What's wrong?" He attempts a laugh and adds, "Sorry if I taste a bit like Correllian whiskey still."

She attempts a smile, but it fades before he can appreciate it. "It's all so bittersweet."

"Hey, c'mon, it doesn't have to be like that anymore. I'm here, you're here," he pulls her into his arms for a tight hug. He buries his head into the crook of her neck, above one of the chestpiece's tubes. "I think about you every time I punched in coordinates to a new planet. I think about you every time I came to this dead-end planet. I think about you every time I hear someone talk about their ambitions."

Reev pulls away and he sees tears welling up in her eyes again. His chest hurts at the sight of it. He wants to understand, but even as he searches her face, he still can't find the answers. "Every time I shoot someone, I think about how you probably would have been able to hit the mark better than me. You'll always be a better shot than me."

"You should have moved on." She finally admits in a whisper.

"You know I couldn't." He cups her cheek and brushes his fingers over her brow. "I was meant for only our old ship and you, and well, you're here. There's never really been anyone else that could match. I mean, our ship, she was one of a kind. I stole another, and I've gotten used to her."

"I-I… I'm seeing someone."

Reev tries to keep a straight face. "I know."

"And it's not fair to him—"

"I know," he says with less confidence.

"It was ten years, Reev." He trembles when she whispers his name as if it's a plea. "I thought you were dead."

The admittance to the amount of years seems to rattle him all over again, and unlike only a few minutes before, where it really felt like they shared the same sensation—that it hadn't even been a couple of minutes that they'd been apart. He feels the weight of the years on his shoulder. The truth he's chosen to ignore is now out in the open, standing unmasked before his eyes.

"Oh Taus, I know." His voice shakes as his chest constricts, and for a moment he feels like he can hardly breath. Reev doesn't know what to else to say. He takes a step back, away from her.

"If I had just—"

Tau'seret takes a step forward and presses a finger against his lips. "No, none of that."

He reaches up and takes her wrist, holding her hand and her metal clad fingers still. "I would have done anything."

"You can't do everything." It's words that sting, but words that get through to him.

Reev pulls her towards him again and whispers in her ear. Once he's finished, she tilts her head to look at him and her lips part slightly. He lets go of her wrist and takes a step back. He salutes her goodbye and starts to head back the way they came, without looking back.

It's not wreckage he's leaving behind this time. This time he has closure. She doesn't call out to him, but he can still feel her eyes on the back of his neck. He's said his final piece, said what he truthfully means, and he's too shell-shocked by the whole ordeal that he knows that he needs to be the one to step away.

Reev told her to have a fantastic life. He told her that she was, indeed, right. He couldn't do everything and he couldn't give her everything. They were two different people now, even if they hadn't changed all that much over the course of ten years. They had had different experiences and had met different people. After sharing so many years without drastic change together, after enjoying the other's company, of seeing the stars and enjoying crime and having each others' backs and laughing while fixing parts of their ship and sharing a cup of caf after target practice and trying to find themselves somewhere along the way, perhaps in each other, this amount of change was too noticeable and too much. As much as it hurt to walk away, he knows that he'll always have the memories and he'll always love her. He knows that somewhere inside of that metal shell and beneath that original skin, she still loves him.

As he reaches the promenade again, heading this time not towards the cantina, but instead taking a different route to another speeder port, he figures he probably owes Corso an apology for threatening the kid with a piece of chocolate only an hour or so earlier.


	4. The Ultimate Weakness

**Author's Note**:_ This chapter is set in the past, during the early years of their friendship._

* * *

**Some Nights A Gambler Always Wins  
**

Chapter Four

"And so what exactly are we looking for?" Tau'seret asks as they wander through the marketplace beneath the Senate building on Coruscant. She puts her hands on the back of her head as she watches her partner in crime peruse the various stands, vendors, and shops, following a little ways behind him. "I mean, I don't get it. They're not going to have a part we need here in a place like this. Or at least one that's affordable."

It's early morning on Coruscant and the market area is just beginning to come to life, with hardly as many shoppers as there are sellers at the time.

Reev glances over his shoulder to offer her a smile and a "Oh, I know."

"So if you know, then why're we here?"

"We're shopping! C'mon, how many times do we have the opportunity to actually wander about without having to worry about this or that."

"But why Coruscant? We should have gone to Corellia for the hyperdrive component—"

They both stop walking in the middle of the walkway and turn to look at each other. She lowers her hands, letting them fall limply to her sides. He raises a brow and she shrugs.

"And get caught up in what's probably going to be a planet-bound war?"

"We could have made a couple extra credits off of it! I bet plenty of starship part factories are cashing in while they can and getting off-world as soon as possible. You know how even the possibility of a war makes people."

"Yeah, I do."

"So then why are we _here_? If we're going to buy that part we at least ought to be in the Lower Sector." She raises a brow and waits for him to explain himself. She notices his hesitation and it quickly becomes clear to her just why they're here. Her palm reaches up and covers her face, and she tries not to laugh at the sheer absurdity.

"_Really_, Reev?"

"Oh c'mon, Taus!" He whines, as if he's talking to an older sister and not his best friend. "It's not my fault that this is the only planet that sells candied bofa fruit and sparklemint sticks."

She rolls her eyes and gapes at him. "We flew from Tatooine to Coruscant, just so you could go to the galaxy's biggest candy store and buy yourself your fix." She shakes her head. "I swear, you're five years old!"

"They're having a sale on puffcakes. The flyer says that if you buy seven packages, you get ten free!"

Tau'seret stares at him, completely attempting to resist the tantalizing offer of her one true weakness in all of the galaxy until she can no longer deny herself.

"Fine. We'll buy twenty-one."

Reev grins and pats her on the shoulder. "'Atta girl, I knew you couldn't resist."

"Yeah, well, I guess the hyperdrive part can wait."


	5. Aw Hell, You're Sweeter Than Sugar Dear

**Author's Note**: _The prompt for this drabble was "bakery." Once again, past!verse Tau'seret and Reev._

* * *

**Some Nights A Gambler Always Wins**

Chapter Five

"Well you simply must like other desserts besides puffcakes."

"Nope."

"Okay, but what if all of the puffcake bakeries in the galaxy simply were destroyed by the Empire one day."

"Never gonna happen. The Empire can't resist the sweet, gooey goodness of puffcakes. If everyone ate puffcakes there'd be no war."

"Right. You're dreaming."

"Obviously your taste buds must not be functionin' properly, as you clearly don't understand what I'm talkin' about sweetheart."

Tau'seret raises a brow, and as they wait in the long line of pastry enthusiasts at the local bakery in the market, she appears to be scheming herself. Reev is too excited about getting his puffcake fix to notice the smirk spreading across her face.

"Okay," she finally says, "you favor no other desserts besides puffcakes. You find nothing else appealing in the realm of desserts."

"You got that right. Puffcakes or I'll die a long, painful—" Reev is stopped by the quick maneuvering of Tau'serets hands, which grab at his brown leather coat and tug towards her, and her lips, which meet his own forcefully.

When Tau'seret pulls away, she flutters her lashes and pats his rear. His mouth is agape, and she imagines his eyes are wide beneath his goggles. He's unable to properly say anything but garbled nonsense. Her smirk widens and she starts to laugh.

"Yup, I think I just made my point."

"No kiddin'," Reev tells her as he takes her hand and pulls her out of the line with him. He abandons the package of fresh puffcakes on a random shelf.

They head out of the bakery and search for a small, secluded alleyway in Coruscant's market sector. They eventually find one, and once in the seclusion of shadows, Reev presses her against the side of a tall metal building and kisses her without abandon. He lifts her thigh and wraps her left leg around his waist, squeezing and enjoying her pliant, clothed body.

Soon after Reev pulls away and she reaches up to push his goggles over his forehead to rest there. She cups his face and sighs in contentment.

"See darlin', you're not sugar but you're definitely sweet."

Tau'seret closes her eyes and groans despite her smile reaching from ear to ear. She ends up laughing either way. "You're _terrible_."


	6. Better Than A Supernova and Puffcakes

_**Author's Note**__:__ Annnnnnd this is why this is rated M. Makes reference to the previous two chapters. Once again this chapter takes place in the past, and in particular it is set a few months before Chapter One._

* * *

**Some Nights A Gambler Always Wins**

Chapter Six

"You know I think my favorite thing in all of the galaxy is strip sabaac," Tau'seret says proudly in just her purple knickers and her matching colored bra. "In fact, I think I love it more than the sound of credits pouring into my bank account."

"You're_ twisted_," Reev says. He sits across from her in the ship's lounge, at the sabaac table they bought a few years ago for the sake of having a good time. It's a well used table—in more ways than one. This time, however, the grinning woman's winning this time around, and she's managed to strip him down to nothing but the dark goggles over his eyes. "Twisted but something else."

"Now that's more like it." She laughs and then calls the hand. "You know, I think we should make this more interesting."

Reev looks up from his cards. The toothpick between his lips sags a little. "Speak now or forever hold your piece sweetheart."

"If I win this hand, Mr. Aurell…"

"If you happen to win this hand, _Ms_. Rozenhart…" he always manages to roll her surname off his lips in a teasing manner.

"Yes, if I win this hand, I want you to marry me."

He chuckles and shrugs. "I don't know Taus. I've got a pretty good hand." He gestures to the cards. "What do I get if I win?"

"Name your terms, you dirty scoundrel."

"Alright. If I win, I want _you_ to marry me. And off with the bra, too, while we're at it." His grin widens. "Such perfect breasts ought to be on display."

"You're on, fly-boy."

Tau'seret and Reev have been traveling for the past nine and a half years. They met when she was twenty and he was twenty-one—both on Nar Shaddaa, both winding up crashing into each other, literally. He had a bounty on his head and she was hired to hunt him down. He charmed his way into offering to take her out on a date, and if she liked him enough, she would forget the ordeal and maybe they'd have drinks again sometime. Of course, Tau'seret agreed because she found the whole ordeal both humorous and flattering. Throughout the evening, she really did have a good time, and he found himself really wanting to know more about her. The terms of the agreement changed at the last minute, when she asked if she could leave Nar Shaddaa with him. She told him that she wanted to explore the rest of the galaxy, to move on to bigger, grander, and more difficult hunts. Nar Shaddaa had lost its charm. Reev decided that company wouldn't hurt and thought that they would work well together. Nine and a half years of touring the galaxy, running from explosions and blaster-fire, being friends and sometimes enemies after nasty sabaac games where Tau'seret accused Reev of being a dirty, no-good cheater. Moving from friends to partners-in-crime to casual friends-with-benefits to becoming devoted to each other to falling in love and not realizing it.

Nineand a half years later, Tau'seret shows her cards: -21.

Reev smirks and lifts up his goggles. He looks her right in the eye. "Better start unhooking that bra of yours."

She rolls her eyes. He splays his cards face up: -23.

"Deal's a deal," he leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head.

"You're right. Deal's a deal." She stands up and crawls onto the sabaac table. She sits up, unhooks it from behind, pulls the straps off, and lets the purple garment fall to the floor. She runs her hands down the sides of her body and then cups her breasts, giving each a small squeeze. Her tongue slides over her lips, wetting them. She trails one hand down to the rim of her purple panties, and she smirks when it disappears into her folds.

Reev groans and decides that simply just having an eye on his prize isn't enough. He sits up and trails his mouth over her stomach. He loves her smell, the curve of her bust, and the little sounds she makes when one of his hands squeeze her rear. There are a few scars on her side, small, hair-line ones, and he lays long licks on each one.

"I must say Ms. Rozenhart," Reev says as he gently pulls her off of the sabaac table and into his lap, "if there's one thing that I can't have enough of is you sitting here making these noises."

"That'll be Mrs. Aurell to _you_, soon." She winks and runs a hand through his short black hair. She pulls the set of goggles off of his head and places them on the table behind her.

"To me you're the stars," he tells her just before he leans forward, barely brushing his lips against her own. "Your body's a map of the galaxy, each scar is a star system, each curve of your form a different path. All tunnels through hyperspace lead home," his hand moves to rest just atop her left breast.

"My Reev. Always poetic." Tau'seret looks down at him with half-lidded eyes.

His lips twitch, and his grey eyes are alight with amusement. He pulls her forward and his arousal presses against her stomach. "Your kiss is like a supernova," he moves away from her lips and lays open mouthed kisses on her neck. Her breath hitches and she arches her back, further splayed against him. A loud groan escapes from him when she reaches down and rubs up and along his shaft. "Being with you is an adventure."

She laughs and he opens his eyes to look into her own. "You mean we're always running from something or someone."

"People usually don't like it when you steal from them."

"No, I don't think they do." Tau'seret pauses to think on it. She squeezes the tip of him with a little force, causing him to moan. "Maybe we need to leave a thank you note next time."

Reev presses his lips into Tau'seret's, and it's a different kind of supernova—they both can sense it. There's something new. A different kind of spark. It's more than just tongues mingling and lips meeting at just the right angle. His hands splay across her back and she runs her hands through his hair, down his neck, and grip him at the shoulders. When he pulls away from her, he sees that same fire that's always in her eyes.

"Perhaps we'll sign it 'Mr. & Mrs. Aurell.'"

"Oh!" Her eyes widen when his hands come around to her front again, reaching to slither inside of her remaining piece of clothing. "Maybe. How about—ah, right there, Mr. Aurell," she gasps when his thumb rubs around her clit and two fingers slide into and out of her moist core slowly. She closes her eyes and he watches her intently, enjoying the mixture of emotions spreading across her face. Her cheeks grow pink and she bites her lip. It doesn't take long for her first orgasm to rush over her body by his long, coarse fingers.

"You know, who needs a prissy business card when you can just leave the usual trail of debris," she tells him as she slumps against him.

"You read my mind."

"Oh yeah?" Tau'seret pulls away slightly and raises a brow. "Let's see. I think I know what's also on your mind."

"We're just so in sync, you know?"

"Yeah, we are," she sticks her tongue out and stands up, only to remove her panties, before resettling is lap, straddling his legs. "_Aren't we?_"

"I'd say so."

Tau'seret cups his cheeks and runs her thumbs over each of his cheek-bones. Her eye-lids close halfway and she stares down at him. She whispers, "What's it like when we have sex?"

"It's making love to someone you want to spend the rest of your life with."

"Better than a supernova?"

"Better than a supernova and glazed puffcakes."

"Oh _wow_," she rolls her eyes but grins, "that really is _quite_ explosive. Are you sure you don't want to marry a plate of puffcakes instead?"

He kisses her again as she lowers herself onto his shaft gradually. Once they're joined together, she shudders and grips him tightly. He closes his eyes and breathes into her blonde hair. They find a slow, steady rhythm that's a combination of long strokes and caressing. He plots a course with his fingers and his tongue over her body, sometimes finding the places that make her cry out unexpectedly and others that make her body tremble.

"You're my weakness and my strength," he whispers into her ear after they've each climaxed and he's holding her warm, shuddering body against him. "Speaking of puffcakes, do we have anymore?"

"Nope." Tau'seret stands and starts to head for the small bridge of their ship. "Guess I know where to set course for."

Reev leans back in his chair and watches her hips sway from side to side as she walks off. She glances over her shoulder and winks to him. "Don't take too long Taus. There's plenty of time 'till we hit Coruscant for us to play more sabaac."

"You mean plenty more time for you to lose!" She yells from the bridge.

"Ah c'mon Taus, I let you win the first sixteen times! Seventeenth time's the charm!"


	7. I Thought About It All

**Author's Note**: _Now we're back in the present, and thus this is post Chapter One._

* * *

**Some Nights A Gambler Always Wins**

Chapter Seven

**TO**: Reev Aurell

**FROM**: Tau'seret Rozenhart

**RE**: Nar Shaddaa

I know we parted on somewhat bittersweet terms, but I wanted to just say that I did think about you over these past ten years. I thought about all the running and hiding and panting behind corners and making sure we weren't found by the big bad guy chasing us down demanding credits.

I… I guess I miss you. Now that I know you're alive and that you've got other people looking out for you, I guess it makes me happy to know that.

But I keep thinking about the things you said to me before turning and waving goodbye. What were you expecting? That I'd just move on again? That I'd forget?

If you do think that, you're naive and maybe you've hit your head too many times and it's starting to stunt your growth. If you really think everything's just going to return to normal, well you're wrong. I'll be on Hoth for a few days, but I'll be heading to Coruscant on personal business.

I'll be at our favorite place in the Market. If you're interested, be there by seven in the evening. If you don't show up I'll get the message.

- Tau'seret R.


	8. You Broke All Three Of Your Own Rules

**Some Nights A Gambler Always Wins**

Chapter Eight

_It was cold, but it got warm when you'd barely crossed my eye.  
And then you turned, put out your hand,  
And you asked me to dance.  
I knew nothing of romance, but it was love at second sight._

- The Gambler by .fun

* * *

The previous evening is a blur. Just that: a blur. He remembers two things: being happy and stubbing his toe on a piece of furniture on his ship. The rest is lost in translation—or at least lost in a drunken blur and the resulting hangover. He groans and sits up to an empty bed—_his_ bed, thankfully. He's naked and there are no clothes to be found except for a pair of green panties that most certainly aren't his own.

"Shit," is all he can think of saying. He groans louder and rubs his throbbing head. After closing his eyes momentarily to recollect himself, he slides out of bed. If things couldn't get any worse whomever he shared his room with last night helped him make it an awful mess.

Reev tries to grasp at the strongest, most recent memory beside stubbing his toe as he gathers his clothes and dresses himself…

* * *

He sees her sitting at one of several tables consisting of the lounging area of the Dealer's Den in the Old Galactic Market, alone. Even in the faint light he can see the shades of green in her eyes and how the light flickers through them. She's dressed in a creamy white, cap-sleeved dress that comes down to her calves. She has her blonde hair pulled back into a short pony-tail, with a few strands loosely hanging, framing the the sides of her face. There is a blaster on the table next to a small glass, which he presumes is filled with alcohol.

The music inside the Dealer's Den is loud and pumping—he can feel the beat in his veins, feel the vibrations pounding in his ears. It reminds him of times long lost to memory now. The music is almost primal, and he feels like asking her to dance if he gets the chance. Her white dress almost succeeds at giving a semblance of innocence; he knows differently of course. Perhaps she wore white as a sign of surrender: a "let's not fight about this stupid fucking ordeal anymore."

Without wasting any further time, he sucks in a breath and approaches her table. Tau'seret appears legitimately surprised to be seeing him.

"I didn't think you'd show," she says as he settles himself into the chair across from her.

"You really ought to bet on me more."

"_Always_ the gambler."

"S'good way to pay the bills."

She smiles, and when the server droid returns, he orders a bottle of Corellian Whiskey.

"Why did you think I wouldn't show?" He asks once the droid's gone.

"I just thought with what you said on Nar Shaddaa…"

"That wasn't goodbye. That was a 'see you later.'"

She nods and shrugs her shoulders. "I guess I just figured you'd had your closure and that was it."

"It would take more than ten years and a chance meeting for me to ever have moved on or had closure."

"How long?"

"I don't know. Infinity, I guess?"

Tau'seret sighs. Their drinks arrive, and as Reev pours his glass, he jabs,

"Guess it took you a lot shorter."

"That's not fair." She looks down at her glass and decides to fill it with the remaining amount of liquor in his bottle.

"Are you married?"

"No," she takes a drink. "Was dating someone. Single now."

"You mean that kid? You aren't with him anymore?"

"I wasn't right for him in the end. We shared a lot in common, but my shipmate Mako is the right one for him."

"I do hope you didn't go and change your mind because of my _supposed_ existence."

She hesitates clearly, and for a moment Reev wonders whether or not she did break up with this other guy in order to be with him.

"I never stopped loving you."

"I know." The tables have turned. "I'm sorry," he sighs, "I'm not trying to be passive aggressive. I understand it's realistic."

"Did you ever have anyone? Are you with someone?"

"My shipmate 'Riggs is with a gal named Risha. Have another who's a Mandalorian, actually." He pauses and frowns. "I…I tried. But she was too close to you. We had both lost someone close to us. Wasn't right in the end."

"I don't think you've changed all that much. In fact I think if you've changed, I think it's for the best."

"Oh yeah?" He cracks a grin.

"You've gone," she pauses for dramatic effect, "_legit_." She laughs and winks.

"I wouldn't jump to that conclusion, really. Credits are credits."

"But the Republic really can't be that profitable, can it?"

"Maybe not for a bounty hunter, but for smuggling and the hero-selling, yes, very much so. Republic's _always_ looking for a hero. Someone's gotta work for them."

She smiles appreciatively, but there's a hint of mischief. "You, a hero? They must be desperate." She sighs. "I'm jealous of you, I'll admit."

"How's that?"

"Republic doesn't use the Force to nearly choke ya to death if you snap back a bit."

"Nah, course not. They just get plain old pissy."

"It's a shame, really." She leans forward against the table, slouching over her drink, and suddenly Reev wonders how much Taus'eret really has had.

"Are you alright?"

"I drank a little more before you got here."

"Doesn't that sort of defeat the purpose?"

She shakes her head and laughs again, causing her pulled back hair to loosen. "No, no. Just changes some plans."

"Plans?"

Tau'seret places her hand on his gloved palm and draws lazy figures on it. He meets her eyes and sees something he has not seen in years, and it nearly floors him. She batts her lashes for him, innocently enough, but he knows that look; had they perhaps been elsewhere, on his ship, perhaps, she might have approached him with fewer garments.

"Taus, you're drunk."

"I know," she says after hesitating to move her hand away from his. She frowns and leans back in her chair.

"It's not the right time. Not like this."

"You're right." She frowns, but watches him closely as Reev stands and extends a hand to her. She brightens immediately and takes his hand, squeezes it, and pulls him to the dance floor, no longer to reminisce, but to start anew.

* * *

Reev runs a hand through his hair as he looks at himself in the mirror. He's dressed in a white t-shirt and dark pants. Presentable, he decides, and walks out of his fresher, out of his room, and heads for the mess hall since his stomach is growling loudly. Inside, he finds Risha, Corso, and Akavi sitting together uncharacteristically: they've been waiting for him. _Stars, it's an intervention_, he fears, _least Gus ain't here_. Risha turns her head, glares, and quickly gets out of her chair, fuming. She bolts for him and presses a finger into his chest.

"Just what the _hell_ do you think you're doing, Captain?"

"Hoping to get some caf," Reev squeaks out.

"Do you want to explain what happened here?"

"I uh," he scratches the back of his neck. "Apparently I had some company."

Risha makes a sound of derision, shifts her weight, and crosses her arms. "That's not even the half of it."

"Care to enlighten me?"

"You brought alcohol on this ship, as well as company, without promptly telling us, in the middle of the morning." She clenches and unclenches her hands. "You made the lounge a mess—you raided the fridge—"

"Don't forget the captain's chair, Risha." Corso adds in with a pleased laugh.

"—Don't even get me started with that mess," she shakes her head and points at Reev with the darkest glare she's likely ever given. "_You're_ cleaning up that mess and disinfecting the entire area."

Reev flushes and scratches his neck. "Yeah, uh, sorry 'bout all that."

"You're such a hypocrite!" She shuffles past him and heads out of the room, apparently done with the conversation.

Reev walks to the counter and pours himself caf. Corso turns to look at him.

"You were with the blonde, weren't you?"

Reev nods and hoists himself onto the counter to sit.

"Don't worry, we all left besides Bowdaar. Seems he can sleep through anything."

Reev nods and rubs his eyes. "Did you happen to see her on your way back?"

"No, I didn't at least."

"Akavi?"

Akavi tilts her head, leaving her own meditative state, and shakes her head.

"Damn." Reev frowns and finishes his caf as quickly and carefully as he can. He slides off the counter and adds, "I'm gonna head off to the Market. I'll buy y'all somethin' as an apology, alright?"

"I suppose that'll help, cap'n." Corso says with a laugh.


	9. Poker Face

**Author's Note**: _Set prior to earlier chapters, particularly during the time in which Reev and Tau'seret were initially together and a couple._

* * *

**Some Nights A Gambler Always Wins**

**Chapter Nine**

"Well now Jezza, you've got me down to just my goggles—what'll it be? Fold or call?" Reev smirks, leans back in his chair, and takes a puff of the large spice cigar held in his hand. "Time's money, and well, you're beautiful and all, darlin', but I've got a hot date with a dirty Hutt—"

The female Miraluka sitting across him grins, spins the cocked pistol from the trigger's hook, stopping when the barrel faces him—he never thought he'd see the day where his own gun was turned on him. She mirrors his grin and licks her lips. She's bare besides a pair of stiletto heels. "Reev Aurell…_Captain_," she purrs, "here I thought _I_ was your hot date."

"Oh don't get too worked up gorgeous, I'm stayin' till we're good and done." He laughs and shrugs. "So what'll it be, fold or call?"

"_Call—_I'll never fold_._"

Reev glances down at his cards one last time, raises a brow, and asks, "Even if it's a shitty hand, huh? That's guts," and then reveals his hand at the same time as her.

It's one of the more unconventional ways he's bargained for his life—but Reev Aurell is first and foremost a cowardly scoundrel, and if weaseling his way out this terrible job gone south meant playing a potentially life-threatening game of strip Rattataki roulette with a woman who could read him like a book, he'd except and take a gamble on his own life to buy some time—at least until Tau'seret blasted through the window, blasters blazing, blonde hair billowing around her, and showed up to save his damsel-in-distress of an ass from sheer mathematical probability.

She's won this round again. It's his second loss in a row. The price: one more article of clothing and another 1/6 chance he'll be a new artsy splatter of blood and guts on her floor.

"Oh, what do you know, my hands a win." Her ruby red lips grin wider. "You know what that means," she giggles, "first, the goggles." She runs her hands over his silver, six-barreled pistol and boldly licks it—clearly this crime lord has a fetish for guns. "Slowly. You know, just how I like it."

"Anything for you." Reev pulls the goggles over his face and onto the pile of clothes at his bare feet. "You'd really shoot this handsome face, Jezza?"

This time, Jezza stands from her seat and saunters towards him with her heels clacking against the solid concrete floor. She pushes aside the cards and sits on top of the table. One of her long legs bends upward and she presses her sharp heel into his chest, applying enough force to bring him discomfort but not enough to cause him to vocally respond.

"Mmm, your gun is so well made. You'll truly have to tell me who designed it." She runs her fingers up the barrel again and then glances back to him. He can't read her expression well with her being a Miraluka—it's the perfect sabaac face and he can't read it, which leaves him at a disadvantage.

"Let's see, this was our… tenth game, right? So ten spins, and we'll see what your fate is, hm?" Jezza starts to spin the cylinder, with her attention divided between his gun and her exploring foot, which slides down his chest, continuing to drag the heel, until it rests on his abdomen. "Nine… ten. There." She then slides off the table and settles into his lap, draping her body over his and straddling his legs as the barrel of the gun jabs roughly into the base of his head. "Tenth times the charm, no?" Her voice lowers until it becomes as soft as silk. "How much luck," she leans forward and sucks on his ear, "_do_ you have, Captain?"

"Just enough, apparently." A gun cocks and presses firmly into Jezza's side, and then with a blink, the blaster fires and the Miraluka slumps forward onto him, bleeding out. Reev pushes the wounded woman off and stands from the chair. "I was wondering when you'd come and save my ass."

"Someone's gotta save the princess."

"Real funny."

Tau'seret grins broadly and jerks Reev forward, covering his mouth with her own. Their kiss is hasty, sloppy, and a little desperate, and Tau'seret, always being more in tune with her surroundings naturally, hears Jezza reach for the gun. Tau'seret shoots again as she continues to kiss Reev, with one eye open, aiming directly for the Miraluka's stomach.

When the captain and his mercenary pull away, Jezza's close to dying, but slowly and painfully on her way towards crossing over to the other side.

"You dirty, filthy, rat—" she snarls weakly, and her charm's absent. "I should have killed you when I had the chance."

Reev runs a hand through his hair and winks. "Darlin', I'm definitely a weasel, not a rat, get it right." He walks over to the dying woman and pries his blaster from her weakening fingers. "You should have cashed out while you had the upper hand. My luck showed up just in time."

With that, Reev gathers his discarded clothes and starts to dress himself.

"Rattataki Roulette, huh? With stripping? That's new."

"My idea."

"I guess if it it isn't rough it isn't fun." Once he's dressed and his blaster is safely back in its holster, she pulls him back towards her, and unlike Jezza, Reev can read her like an open book—he knows exactly what's on her mind, and he's more than happy to oblige. "So, I guess the question is, when do I get to collect the bounty on your damsely ass?"


	10. Your Reputation Precedes You Captain

**Author's Note: **_Basically, this is point A on Reev and Tau'seret's storyline, also known as the story of how they met._

* * *

**Some Nights A Gambler Always Wins**

**Chapter Ten**

Reev Aurell flips the switch on his ship's controls and waits as the engines power up. He leans back in the captain's chair and scratches his goatee. His fingers drum against the controls, and as he looks out through the three wide windows facing the interior of the private hangar bay, he sighs. He doesn't know what it is, a lack of judgment or a sudden burst of imagination? A hidden blessing or a devil's snare. The decision is clear before him: leave now, go back on her good faith and honor and possibly make a fool's mistake by adding another enemy to the always lengthening list, or take a chance and let the chips fall where they may, for better or worse?

In the end, the Captain stands from his chair after canceling the pre-flight check and heads for the ship's entrance. He opens the main airlock and leans against the frame. In the relative distance he sees the blonde bounty hunter heading towards him with a sack over her shoulder and a grin on her face.

"Y'know, I'll admit I was worried you'd back out on me. That your reputation for running would prove true," Tau'seret Rozenhart says as she approaches him.

"I'm not a _complete_ bastard."

"I don't think bastard is the right term. Scoundrel, maybe. Scoundrels have some redeeming qualities." She steps forward and places her gloved palm on the hull of his freighter. "What's her name?"

"_Puffcake_."

"_Puffcake?_" She raises a brow. "You're kidding right."

"I tell a lot of lies but this ain't one of them."

"So Captain Reev Aurell, thief and pirate, has a ship named _Puffcake_."

"What were you expecting? Something over-exaggerated and terrifying? _The Mighty Flying Rancor?_ I really don't see what's the big deal."

"Now the Mighty Flying Rancor sounds like a circus ship. I think if you were going for the cute, ridiculous name, I would have gone for maybe _The Almighty Weenie_, or something."

"When you get a ship, you can christen it with whatever name you please." Reev gestures to the insides of his ship. "Now, if you've made your decision, I've got a run to make on a shipment of guns. We'll work on a contract inside, if that's your thing. Otherwise, welcome aboard, Tau'seret."

"Taus is fine."

The Captain nods and smiles briefly. They head inside and for the first of many times to come, Tau'seret stands beside him at the helm as he powers up the _Puffcake_.

"Hope you've got your flyin' legs, cause this girl's a puffcake that soars."

* * *

_Four hours earlier…_

"I would be mindful of what exactly you're reachin' for there, Captain."

Reev glances sideways and sighs. He raises his hands above his head.

"Slowly turn around, keep your hands where I can see them."

"Who's gone and sent for me this time, huh?" He asks as he turns and sees an armor clad figure pointing a blaster's barrel between his eyes.

"Bareesh the Hutt sends his regards."

"Ah, Bareesh this time is it? Better than Girradda. Girradda's mercs usually shoot first, ask things kindly later."

"So I've heard. You've got a reputation for running, Captain."

"Running, me? No, of course not. That's what they say about me? What happened to _Scourge of the Hutts_?"

"It turns out you're a two-faced coward who steals from his employers. That's rather bad form. The Hutt Cartel decided that _Scourge of the Hutts_ is much too intimidatin' for a thief who amounts to bein' a yellow bellied gizka."

"Such a shame, I rather did like _Scourge of the Hutts_. I'd even gone and made business cards."

"Well I'm glad you think this is a game and all, but I'd be mighty concerned about the blaster pressin' up into your forehead."

"It's a nice forehead though ain't it? Be a damn shame if there were a hole in it."

The bounty hunter's head tilts and he hears a low laugh. Afterward, the hunter reaches up and removes the helmet to reveal short, matted blonde hair, green eyes, and a smirk.

"I've been hunting you down for a few days, Captain. Been tracking you throughout the Industrial Sector. You're quick. You don't mind gettin' your hands dirty, and you sure as hell do a lot of runnin'. Must be three or four bounties on your head at this moment."

"What's my estimated value at now, hm?"

"A couple hundred thousand credits."

Reev feigns a pout. "_That_ low?"

"What can I say? Hutts are cheap."

"I'm worth at least a few million credits. You shouldn't have even taken this job. Your should at least be gettin' hazard pay of a million. Aren't your legs tired in that heavy armor? If you've really been huntin' me down for as long as you say, well stars, I think I'd've given up long before now."

"Well," she leans forward and presses the barrel deeper. She reaches into the small pouch at her belt and pulls out a pair of hand-cuffs. "It's a good thing you're not a mercenary then, huh?" She shoves the hand-cuffs into his hands. "Put those on. You're Force-inhibiting, so don't try anything."

"I ain't runnin', you can quit waving your gun in my face."

She snorts. "I didn't show up on Nar Shaddaa yesterday. Now go on, put them on. Pirates like you always have self-preservation in your forefront. Well, if you want to live, you'll do it. The bounty's dead or alive, and I'm plenty happy with dead."

"Alright, alright. Just chill out for a sec, alright?"

Reev puts on the handcuffs without so much as another spoken complaint. Once done, he raises his hands, wiggles his fingers, and grins. "There, happy now? Can we lower the gun, huh?"

The bounty hunter hesitates but concedes and holsters her blaster. She bends down to pick up her discarded help, then grabs Reev by his arm, and tugs him along. "I'd have to say your reputation for running precedes you Captain, but I'd say the myth is more exciting than the truth."

"Isn't it always?"

* * *

"Look, isn't there a way we can, I don't know, settle this businessman to businesswoman, I mean, c'mon, isn't there something I can do? Credits? You mercs like credits, don't you?"

"And now the fight or flight's really kickin' in, ain't it? Only you're not much of a fighter, more of a weasel, right?"

"You may compare me to any animal you please, but know that when it comes to the preservation of my life I will practically bargain with my own organs if it means I'll live."

She snorts and shakes her head. "That's almost too humorous to actually be pathetic."

"C'mon, let's make a deal," Reev starts to resist by going limp and forcing her to drag him along. "I'm a great deal maker, trust me."

"I don't think I'd give ya even a grain of trust." She sighs and stops walking, allowing him to reposition himself into an erect position.

"Fair enough, I wouldn't either."

"I'm bound by somethin' bigger than your tiny little weasel brain might even be able to comprehend."

"I read a few books in my time, mostly ones with pictures, but try me."

"_Honor_."

"Oh, yikes, d'ya have a dictionary on hand?" His grin grows wider. "Never heard of that word before. Is it Huttese?"

She tugs at his cuffs and he winces. "A few people in this galaxy still care for it."

"A mercenary who's working for Hutts who cares about honor. Now there's a story there. Why don't we talk about it a bit over drinks? Some one on one time. You know?" He raises a hand partially, and she raises a brow. "I know, I know. I'm a two-face rat, and you're probably wonderin' if I'm schemin'. Truth is, I am, but like I said, we're business folk, so let's do business, alright?"

"You've got thirty seconds."

"I only need half that." He clears his throat. "What d'ya say you and me, I don't know, head on down to the Slippery Slopes, get a few drinks, doesn't need to be alcoholic, we chat for a bit, we laugh for a bit," he leans over and murmurs with a smirk, "I'll even let you keep the cuffs on, huh, huh? It's kind of kinky!"

"Are you this much of a clown with your own clients? Or just in the face of oncoming death?"

"What's life without a little humor." He shrugs. "Give a man his last meal with some company. Do you have a time limit on your hunt? No. Do you have to worry about competition? Nope! All one hundred and fifty pounds of this ridiculously skinny, lanky, tall," he pauses and perks up his eyebrows above his goggles, "_dashing_," his toothy grin spreads to his ears, "almighty _Scourge of the Hutts_ will be _yours_ till the clock strikes midnight. And if we've had a good time, maybe you'll reconsider? _Maybe_. If I'm terribly horrible company you shoot me dead and we're done with it. How's that for an offer?"

The bounty hunter hesitates, narrows her brows as she studies him, but appears to be seriously considering his offer. She runs a hand through her hair and shrugs. "Okay. Fine. One condition."

"Name it."

"If I just so happen to enjoy your company, and I decide to let you go, _if_, I decide to do so, I want passage on your ship. No ifs, ands, or buts. You let me travel with you." She pauses. "For an indefinite amount of time. I want that clear."

Now Reev's the one hesitating, and he stands up straighter. He's assessed her well enough to know that yes, it's true, she's very bound to her own sense of honor and duty—enough to even consider breaking her previous contract in order to take his offer and propose an amendment to it. There's something she wants that's bigger than traveling with him. In the end, it's his only chance at surviving a little while longer. After midnight, he can do what he does best, _run_.


	11. Tab A And Slot B

**Author's Note: **_Set some time before the events of Chapter One. Inspired by a prompt on tumblr: Imagine your OTP getting really confused while trying to build IKEA furniture (space IKEA is on Coruscant)._

* * *

**Some Nights A Gambler Always Wins**

**Chapter Eleven**

"Taus, I think this says that Tab A goes into Slot B." He grumbles, scratches his beard, and extends his open palm behind him as he waits for her to hand the appropriate part to him.

Instead, his hand is yanked backwards and to his happy surprise he's enjoying a handful of soft and pliant flesh that most definitely isn't the metal rod he needed for the table's leg.

"Sweetheart," he swallows hard, "that ain't the part."

"No, you're right," suddenly she's pressed behind him, wrapping her arms around his clothed waist, and one of her hands trails downward, brushing over his belt and then into the brim of his pants. "But you did say Tab A goes into Slot B," when she grabs onto Tab A, he groans, and she chuckles against his ear. "And you're just gettin' frustrated over those dumb Huttese instructions. You need a break."

Reev tries hard to stay composed, but it's mighty hard with her tempting fingers. "Wouldn't you rather finish building the table and then havin' fun on it?"

"Why not both?"

And that's why he married her. Damn clever woman.


End file.
